


Danger

by fearthainn



Series: TPDGA [4]
Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-01-09
Updated: 2002-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-06 01:47:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fearthainn/pseuds/fearthainn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short story set in TPDGA-verse about Draco's first days in Canada. (No spoilers.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Danger

_Danger how could anything ever get so bad  
You turn down all the choices that you have  
And run toward the darkest light you find  
with the hope that it will ease your aching mind  
And take your pain away.  
\- Danger, The Waifs_

_October, 1998_

It was close to sundown, long rays of light filtering down through cottonball clouds to lay strips of gold across the stubbled fields on either side of the divided highway. Ed MacDouglas was driving home from Lethbridge, having driven in to look for car parts and talk cattle with his old friend Ira. Beef prices were still strong, although they'd fallen off some in the last couple of years; Ed was looking forward to a good sale this year. Maybe he'd buy a new truck, since his old half-ton was pretty beat up, or maybe he'd take Annie on a cruise or something. She'd always wanted to go on one, someplace warm like Hawaii. He had the radio on Country 105, the reception crackling in and out at times, but mostly clear, Garth Brooks singing a song about the rodeo, and Ed drummed his fingers on the wheel in time. He had the heater blasting, because although it was still early October, it had been a cool year, and the temperature was dropping fast as nightfall  
approached.

It might have been that awareness of the cold that brought his attention to the slouching figure shuffling along the side of the highway, although it was more likely that Ed noticed him - because it was a him - just because it was in Ed's nature to notice others, especially those who looked down on their luck, like this boy did. He hit the brakes, mindful of the semi behind him, and pulled off to the side just ahead of where the boy was walking. Ed waited until he'd got a little closer, watching in his rear-view, then unlocked the passenger door and climbed out to walk around the back and lean on the tailgate.

"Hey, there," he said, when the figure was in earshot. "Where you headed?"

The boy stopped dead, about 10 feet away and remained silent, staring at Ed from beneath dirty blond elflocks. Ed noticed that he was filthy, with battered blue jeans, worn brown shoes and a jean jacket over a t-shirt that might once have been white, shivering slightly in the cold. He was almost painfully thin, skin stretched taut across high cheekbones and narrow nose, the line of his collarbones standing out under his shirt like knives. Now that the boy was closer, Ed could see a faded bruise across one cheek, the livid purple standing out like paint splashed across a white wall. He looked both dangerous and ridiculously young. _15 or 16, maybe,_ Ed thought to himself. _Can't be older than that.__ Poor kid, wonder how he ended up way the hell out here._

 

"I'm goin' out Fort McLeod way, if you're headin' in that direction. I can give you a lift if you need," he said, and again, the boy didn't respond. Ed tilted his head and shrugged. "Hop in, if you're comin," he said, and walked back around the truck to the driver's side. He climbed in, started the truck up again, and waited.

Sure enough, the boy walked over to the passenger side, and hesitated a long moment before opening the door and climbing into the truck. He cast Ed a wild look and settled back against the door, as far away from the other man as he could get, one hand tense against the fabric of the seat, the other clutching the door handle.

"Hey, son, put your seatbelt on. I don't want no tickets," Ed said gently.

The boy stiffened alarmingly. "I'm not your son," he said fiercely in a clipped British accent. He sounded like the Queen of England, high class, and Ed blinked in surprise, shooting his new passenger a startled look.

"Well, now, you're right about that. Reckon my sons'd put their seatbelts on right away," he finally said. The boy twitched, but he fastened the belt, still leaning as far away from Ed as possible within the confines of the cab.

_Skittish as a wild colt,_ Ed thought. _Wonder what happened to him._ He sighed softly at the thought, guiding the pickup out onto the highway and gathering speed. They drove quietly for a while, the only sounds the wind whistling around the windows, the hum of the engine, and the radio making its way through Alabama and Travis Tritt and Shania Twain and Randy Travis and the Judds and Garth again. Ed finally broke the silence around Monarch. "So, what's your name, then? Since it ain't 'son'?"

There was no response, yet again, and Ed glanced over. The boy was fast asleep, although he hadn't really relaxed, hands still taut against the door and seat, head slumped against the window. Ed chuckled softly. "Well, alright then."

They rolled into Fort McLeod around 8 pm, the sky already dark above the rolling foothills, a sprinkling of stars appearing and a sliver of moon just rising behind the clouds. It was quite cold now, and Ed judged they'd have a good freeze before morning. Another glance at his passenger showed him to be still sleeping quite soundly, and Ed decided he didn't have the heart to wake the poor boy up. Annie wouldn't mind if he just brought the boy home; after 30 years of marriage, she was used to his habit of picking up "strays", as she called them. He'd be in for a lecture, but not a bad one. Probably. At any rate, she wouldn't turn the poor thing away outright, not with the weather turning and him in only a jacket.

The lights of town faded behind the pickup as Ed pulled onto highway 810, heading south toward the ranch, gravel flying beneath the wheels. After a good hour of driving, Ed watching the sides of the road for the eyes of deer in the dark, his young passenger sleeping like the dead, they pulled up the long lane that led to the Lazy D. The house lights were on, and Ed could see Annie's shadow, pacing back and forth in front of the big front window. She hated to admit it, but she worried about him if he was gone too long. Not that a trip out to Lethbridge and back was a long one, but still. He saw her head come up as she heard the wheels of the truck on the gravel and he smiled. That was his Anne. He pulled up and stopped the engine, leaning over to tap the boy gently on the shoulder.

He came awake all of a piece, one moment slumped back against the window, the next sitting bolt upright like he'd been lightning-touched. He glared at Ed from under ratted bangs, then cast a sharp glance out the window, to where Anne now stood on the porch, her brown hair glinting with silver in her bun, one hand resting against the porch rail as she eyed her husband in the truck. "Where am I?" the boy asked sharply.

"Well, you looked like you could use a square meal and a good night's sleep, and I didn't figure you'd find one in Fort McLeod, so I brought you home. Anne's a better cook than any ol' short-order chef anyway," Ed said with a friendly smile. "C'mon inside, you can stay here the night." With that he climbed out of the cab, leaving the boy to decide if he wanted to stay in the truck or come into the warm.

Annie gave him that look as he climbed the steps, the look that said "you're gonna catch it tonight" in so many words. Ed just shrugged and bent down to kiss her, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her tight, just for a moment. "We got company," he said with a sheepish smile. She just sighed and swatted his arm.

"I can see that. I swear, I don't know where you find 'em." She looked past him, to where the boy was standing next to the truck, shifting uncertainly. "What's his name?" she asked quietly.

"He wouldn't tell me, then he fell asleep and just woke up, so I didn't have the chance to ask again," Ed told her.

"Well, go on inside then, since I'm doin' all the work...again," she said with some asperity. She raised her voice to the boy, who had come around the front of the truck, but wasn't moving any closer to the house. "You can c'mon inside, hon, I don't bite. I'll warm up some chili for you boys for supper. You eat yet?" Anne didn't wait for an answer, just turned and opened the door, heading back toward the big kitchen. The boy followed; slowly, but he did.

"You can wash up through there, and make sure you take your shoes off, I just washed the floor. You too, you big lout," this was directed at Ed, who got an affectionate clout on the shoulder and a spoon pointing him in the direction of the sink. "I just bet you and Ira spent all afternoon pokin' around under the hood of that damn truck, and no one sits down at my table with dirty hands."

Anne kept up a stream of words, some directed at Ed, who had washed his hands and was sitting at the table digging into a bowl of chili in front of him-who obligingly told her how Ira and Edie were doing, and about beef prices, and how much cheaper car parts were in the city-and some directed at the young man, who'd sidled back from the bathroom and was shifting nervously in the archway between the kitchen and dining room. His matted hair was tucked back behind his ears, and he'd taken the opportunity to wash his face, so that his skin looked like wax in the warm light, and the bruise stark and purple-black against his cheekbone. The dining room was dark, and the kitchen glowing with golden light from the fixture over the table and the fire roaring in the big stone fireplace, silhouetting him against the black background. He looked even thinner than he had on the roadside, and younger. Anne ushered him over to the table. "Now you just sit down here, child, and let me dish you up some supper. You're nothing but skin and bones! Nothing that a good meal or two won't fix, I guess. Have another biscuit. What'd you say your name was again?"

The boy froze, perched on the edge of the wooden chair as though ready to bolt at the slightest noise-not that he'd hear anything, over Anne's chatter, Ed thought. She didn't always talk so much, it was just her way of putting people at their ease, filling in the gaps, she called it, though it didn't seem to be working on this one. He blinked at her and swallowed, one hand clutched around the fork Anne had pressed into his hand the minute he sat down, the other tense in his lap. "I didn't," he said sharply.

Anne betrayed not a flicker of surprise at his accent or his tone. "Well, why don't you, and spare me the trouble of calling you 'boy'? Lord knows there's enough other boys 'round here that I need some way of telling you all apart."

"Other...?" the boy looked startled and frightened and wary, glancing toward the darkened doorway to the dining room with wild eyes, as though he was expecting a horde of people to come crashing in.

Anne leaned against the back of one chair and sighed. "Not all here right at this moment, or all the time, mind, but there's Keith, and Mark and Jay - those're ours, Ed and me - and Chris and Dave from over at the Bar G, and Shane and little Tristan, and Noah and John from up at the reservation - oh yes, there's other boys. So you're gonna have to give me something to tell you apart from all of them. Or I'll just call you Herbert," she said with a smile. He didn't smile back. She gestured with her spoon. "Eat up, child, it'll get cold."

He didn't move, rolling his eyes from Anne to Ed and back again. "I haven't any money," he said finally.

Anne, who had turned to take the pot off the stove, turned back in surprise. "Well, child, what on earth does that have to do with anything at all?"

The boy made a rough gesture with the hand holding the fork. "For...for this."

Anne looked at Ed, totally at a loss. He shrugged at her helplessly. She sighed and put a hand on her hip, pointing the wooden spoon at the boy with her other hand. "Now, listen here, you. Not once in all my years on this earth has anyone ever gone hungry in my kitchen. Now you eat that up before it gets cold. Money...honestly!"

The boy seemed to visibly shrink into himself, pulling both hands into his lap and staring down at the table, shoulders hunching. Ed looked at him with concern. He looked like nothing more than a whipped puppy, like he'd done something wrong and didn't know what; not quite believing the kindness that was offered, cringing away from everything as though he couldn't comprehend that he wasn't being hurt-yet. Ed's mouth tightened a moment, thinking of all the things that could possibly make a child look that way. There were times...

He reached out and flicked his fingers near the boy's line of vision. "Better eat that before she really loses her temper. She'll pour it into you, you're not careful." Ed smiled gently and winked at the boy when he looked up, startled. "Annie, she's all bite and no bark."

"I heard that, Eddie!"

Ed ducked, pretending to cower, and the boy's mouth twitched up at the idea of a 5 foot woman doing any sort of harm to Ed, who was 6 feet 3, barrel chested and almost as broad as he was tall. He relaxed minutely, and raised his fork hesitantly. "Tell you what," Ed said with a nod. "You eat all that, we'll let you do the dishes."

That provoked a snort of amusement, and the boy shifted forward, finally giving in and starting on the chili, seemingly not caring that it was no longer hot.

~*~

True to Ed's word, after the boy had finished eating, Anne handed him a dishcloth and set him to work, showing him the art of washing dishes properly without commenting on the fact that he seemed to have no clue how they got from dirty to clean. She had a towel in her hand, and was busily drying and putting away cups and plates and cutlery as the boy washed them, occasionally slipping a dish back into the sink when she felt it could use a little extra scrubbing. Anne offered bits of information as they worked, about the ranch and its cattle, the immediate area and its history, people she knew who lived nearby or who had moved off, the neighbours, the children of those neighbours, her and Ed's own children (3 boys, none of whom still lived at home, but who lived close by; "Except for Jay, who went off to university and works in the oilpatch up in Calgary, makin' tons of money and won't come home even for roundup, now ain't that gratitude for you."), rattling off a seemingly endless list of names of people who came and went from the ranch house and its attendant barns and lands.

"Draco," the boy said softly, during a lull in Anne's commentary.

"What's that, hon?" Anne said absently, reaching up to slide a plate onto the shelf in the cupboard to the right of the stove.

"My name is Draco." He half turned from the sink, standing stiffly, his hands gripping the edge of the sink as though the world would spin away from him if he let go, not quite looking at her.

"Well," she said, reaching for another plate to dry, pausing to pat him warmly on the shoulder. "Darned sight better than Herbert, I have to say."

He raised his eyes, startled again, and she smiled at him, an open friendly smile, and was somewhat shocked to see his gray eyes brighten - with tears? - before he ducked his head and went back to the washing.

~*~

Anne made up the spare bed for him while he showered, since she didn't feel right putting him in Keith's or Mark's rooms, and John would be down tomorrow so she couldn't put Draco in his room. Part of her was happy to have the work, humming quietly as she smoothed sheets and blankets, tucking them into hospital corners with easy efficiency. She found an old pair of Mark's jeans, and a clean shirt for him; they'd fit big, but Mark was the smallest, and Lord knew the boy couldn't get into Keith's or Ed's old pants without falling right back out of them. And he'd drown in anything of John's, who seemed to get taller and broader every time she turned around. She didn't think she'd ever seen a body as thin as that boy.

She had just finished up placing the last of the pillows with army precision on the coverlet when she realized that he was standing in the doorway, hair wet around his face. In the light of the overhead bulb, it stood out almost white, a sort of colourless blond that framed his face and made him look like a ghost. Anne cleared her throat. "Well, there you go. I've left a change of clothes for you for tomorrow, and I'll clean the ones you've got for you, too. It's laundry day anyway. There's extra blankets in the closet if you get cold. You must be tired, so I'll let you get to bed," she said, touching him lightly on the shoulder as she passed him in the door and pretending not to notice his flinch. "Sleep well, honey."

Ed looked up from his book as she closed the door to their room with a soft _snick_. He watched with a faintly guilty expression as she changed into her nightdress and unpinned her hair, and settled onto the bed next to him, drawing up the covers against the chill. "Well," she said quietly.

"Hmmm," Ed said.

"Lucky for you, Edward Alasdair MacDouglas, that you are married to a woman with the patience of Job."

"I did pick well, didn't I?"

Anne snorted, unflattered. "He's the creepiest looking thing I have ever seen walk through our door. Like a ghost. I swear, I do not know where you find them. How could you look at him and not think he was dangerous? Trust that he won't murder us in our beds?"

"He wouldn't do that...he seems a good kid, overall."

"Good kids don't always grow up that way," Anne replied suspiciously. "And he's not a kid."

"Now, Annie, be charitable," Ed protested. "He's just a poor boy down on his luck. He ain't from around here, and he's probably lost and alone in the world. He won't do anything to harm us. Don't think he has it in him."

"Will you be so charitable if you wake up in the morning to find the truck and all the silverware missing?"

"That won't happen."

Anne turned her head to look at her husband. "Well, I hope you're right about that," she said finally. Ed nodded. After a long moment, she raised one hand to touch his cheek. "You have a good heart, Eddie. A good heart."

Ed took her small hand in his rough one and kissed it gently. "You're my heart. Forever and always." He reached up, and put out the light.


End file.
